


Nothing But The Best

by tielan



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 12:26:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3728896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tielan/pseuds/tielan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Returning to New York after a long stint out of S.H.I.E.L.D, Maria Hill discovers her connecting flight has been cancelled leaving her stuck in the city. Attacked on her way to her apartment, a stranger steps in to help - unnecessary, but appreciated. Usually, she'd just say 'thanks' and walk away, but something about him catches her interest. He's struggling with major life changes, she's looking for a connection - if only for a night. And then next morning, Maria Hill walks into the New York office and discovers her one night stand was with S.H.I.E.L.D's hottest new property: Steve Rogers, a.k.a. Captain America.</p><p>Out of his time, in a city that is and isn't his, Steve Rogers accepted a strange woman's offer of sex on a whim - a woman who didn't need his help, who offered him a kind of sanctuary, who gave him something he needed - an intimate connection, however briefly. And then, the next morning, Director Nick Fury introduces him to a woman he didn't think he'd see again - Lieutenant Maria Hill, agent of SHIELD.</p><p>So how <i>do</i> you deal with someone you know more intimately than you should but less personally than you want?</p><p>Maria Hill and Steve Rogers are about to find out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing But The Best

**Author's Note:**

> For the Unconventional Courtship challenge. WIP, due to life issues. I could get this much done - we'll see how much more is managed in the coming months...

Her flight out of New York was cancelled and the remaining flights were booked out.

Maria called up Operations Transport to let them know she’d be checking into the New York office, only to discover a travel restriction on the Times Square office.

“Sorry, Agent Hill – no non-necessary personnel in or out of Times Square. Director Fury’s order.”

“I don’t suppose he gave a reason?”

“There’s a betting pool.”

So, no reason. There was a moment when Maria was tempted to call Phil and ask what was going on, but with Stark and the New Mexico situation, she figured Phil had his hands full. And Melinda might tell her – if she knew – but that would mean struggling through a conversation of pitfalls that Maria wasn’t emotionally willing to navigate right now.

She paid the cabbie, and stepped out onto the street outside the apartment block. And saw the hoodlums slinking in along the street.

“Hey, babe, you looking for a good time?” The leader smiled nastily, a long noise poking out under lank blond hair, while his friends circled around behind her.

Maria didn’t bother answering with words.

She punched him in the face. Uppercut him, in fact, under the chin, knocking back his head and making him stagger. Then she turned aside, stepping out of the way of the guy who rushed her, and shouldering him off-balance, even as she stepped neatly over the duffle she’d dropped. He fetched up against the rusty old fence with a crash that made the ancient steel resonate.

The third guy – not paying any attention to his feet – tripped over the duffle she’d dropped, getting his feet tangled in the straps. Which left the fourth – smart enough to hang back from the initial rush, but not thoughtful enough to consider that a woman who’d taken three of his buddies out without having a hand laid on her was probably someone who was at least several levels more prepared for a fight than he was.

He came at her in a rush. She stepped aside and slammed him into the second guy, who’d regained just enough balance to try for her again. Then she ducked Rat-Face’s fist, caught his arm, and twisted. He was down on his knees with his face kissing the ground, even as she pulled the weapon she was never without and aimed it at the fifth guy who was helping Third up.

Fifth put up his hands – well, _hand_. The other one had Third by the collar of his hoodie – and probably his t-shirt, too, if the squirming was any indicator. “I’m just helping, ma’am.”

She didn’t lower the sighting. “Them, or me?”

Still, she was inclined to believe him. He was...different to the others. Older, without the perma-sulk of the other four, dressed differently – a t-shirt and jeans, not the trackpants and hoodie of the quartet – and he carried himself differently – no slouching for that set of shoulders! Her instincts took inventory of a hard, lean body and warned, _professional soldier,_ especially when Third started to struggle, and he took the guy’s arm.

“You don’t want to do that, son.”

Meanwhile, Rat-Face was still struggling. “Bitch! This is assault! Lemme up!”

Maria gave him a good shove so he sprawled forward and stepped back far enough to give her a good sight on all of them – even Fifth. Then she pointed the muzzle at Rat-Face’s balls. “You and your guys come back for seconds and I promise none of you will ever come again – assault or not.”

Rat-Face started spewing insults – the usual run of invective from a guy who felt his masculinity had been impeached by a ball-breaker. Maria had been called considerably worse in her time at S.H.I.E.L.D – once or twice from S.H.I.E.L.D agents themselves – but she didn’t plan to listen to him vent.

She didn’t expect Fifth to toss Third aside and haul Rat-Face up by his collar. “Buddy, you heard the lady. Walk away.”

Rat-Face opened his mouth, took a look at Fifth’s considerable muscle mass, and turned sniveller. “Hey, we were just—”

“Walk away,” said Fifth with steely inexorability. “Or don’t.”

Rat-Face decided to walk away, Third was helped up by Fourth, and they circled Fifth, who shoved Rat-Face away.

Behind her, there was a triumphant shout. Second had decided to run, grabbing Maria’s shoulderbag on the way.

Maria sighed as Rat-Face and the others yelled with glee and scrambled. And Fifth gave chase. She climbed two stairs, sighted, aimed, and fired twice. Second tripped over the falling bag as the shoulder strap snapped, and screamed as he faceplanted in the street. A moment later, Fifth reached him, and he scrabbled away, across the bitumen towards the car.

She couldn’t hear what Fifth said – too far – but the guy had his hands up and looked like he was begging.

Fifth scooped up the bag, and headed back across the road, just as Rat-Face scooped something up from the street and hurled it at him, screeching obscenities. And Fifth turned and batted the tin can aside the way most people would swat a fly.

“Ma’am? Your bag.” He paused at the bottom of the steps, held it out to her, his other hand out wide, away from his body. “That was some shooting.”

“I’ve had practise.” Maria lowered the gun, but didn’t move to take the bag. “Delta Force?”

He frowned a little “I don’t know what that is. I’m the—I was Army. Not anymore, I guess.”

Maria lifted an eyebrow. “You were in the Army but you don’t know about Delta Force? You _guess_?”

“I… Things have changed…quite a lot for me in the last day. Two days.” He lowered the bag and muttered something that she didn’t quite hear before he looked up, blue eyes like the skies of summer. “I’ll put your bag on your suitcase, and leave you to go inside, ma’am. Have a good evening.”

She watched him put the bag down on her luggage and turned to go. “Wait.” He turned as she came down the stairs towards him, curious but not wary. “Why’d you help?”

“Because I used to live around here.”

“That makes you _less_ likely to help.”

He looked her in the eye. “Then these are troubled times, if that’s the case. I helped because I could. People should always help each other if they can.”

Something about the way he said it made her ask, “And even if they can’t?”

“If you fight for what’s right, even when you’re outclassed, you might lose.” He sounded very serious, very solemn. “but if you don’t stand up then they won’t know it’s not right.”

“Oh, they know it’s not right,” Maria told him, unable to quite help the cynicism. “They just don’t care.” And this had to be the weirdest conversation she’d ever had with a stranger on the street before. But also one of the most interesting – right behind ‘ _There’s a hostile takeover of this city happening right now, and I need your help to stop it._ ’ The words were out of her mouth before she could censor them. “What are you doing now?”

He seemed a little surprised at the abrupt change of topic. “Go back to where I’m staying. Try to work out what happens next.”

 _Don’t do it. Don’t. This is a bad idea. He could be an axe murderer, or in a relationship. You might not even be his type._ “Would you like to come in?”

He wasn’t stupid. He got her meaning pretty much immediately. And hesitated over his answer. “Do you usually invite strangers into your place?”

“Only when strangers on the street help me out, and then cite absolute ethics when I ask them why.” And Maria smiled, without teeth. “And it’s not my place.”

“You haven’t even asked my name.”

“Does your name matter?”

He looked down the street, considering. Then back up at her. What he _didn’t_ do was look her over. Maria thought she wouldn’t have minded if he had. “Okay.”

He insisted on taking her luggage, on holding the door open for her to go through. He didn’t touch her or smirk or do any of the things she’d half-expected him to do – he was the perfect gentleman, even once they got into the apartment.

“It used to be my grandfather’s place,” Maria told him when she turned around to find him looking at the old photographs hung in dusty frames on the hallway wall. She’d cleared most of the aparment, just leaving a few pieces of furniture and some of the photographs.

“It doesn’t exactly seem like your style,” he said, studying the photo of her grandmother, uncles, and mom standing outside Coney Island. Her mom wasn’t even walking – just an infant in arms grinning at the camera. “Your mom or dad?”

Maria watched him, not quite sure what to make of the curiosity and not entirely comfortable with it. “You didn’t come in here to ask about my history.”

He turned to look at her and smiled. It seemed almost shy, almost rueful, but he moved towards her with certainty. “I guess I didn’t.”

But he hesitated, just over her mouth, and Maria made a noise of irritation and closed the gap between them.

The connection was electric.

Lightning heat flooded her skin and liquid fire crawled through her belly. Her hands came up to dig into his hair, and his fingers brushed her cheek as he angled his mouth deeper into hers, sucking, nipping, biting.

Maybe it was just that she was tired and wired – come all the way from Algiers on Fury’s say-so, only to be stumped by the commercial airlines. Maybe it was just that she’d had enough of orders, and following the orders of old white men who thought their dick made them God. Maybe it was just that it had been nearly two years since she’d fucked a warm body and three since the body had come with a dick attached, and Mr. Big, Polite, and Handsome was available and willing to break her drought and—

Hands skimmed her skin, a soldier’s callused thumbs skimming up her inside arm in tactile rasp. He picked her up without effort and tore his mouth from hers long enough to ask, “Where’s the bed?”

“Second door left—” Maria didn’t manage much more than that before his mouth was on hers again and she was being carried – _carried_ , for fuck’s sake – and he actually kicked the door shut behind them—

But if he thought he was going to get a fainting flower, he had another think coming.

The instant her feet were back on the ground, she went for his shirt. Hauled it off over his head and tossed it aside. And he had a chest like a Greek _god_ – it was no wonder he’d picked her up without effort.

“What?”

“You’re _built_.”

“ _Built_?” He seemed surprised, and when he looked down, for a moment she thought he was embarrassed. It was rather…sweet, actually. Although a little unexpected.

“I like built,” Maria said as she stroked her hand down his chest, one fingertip just teasing his nipple.

When he looked up, there was an echo of something in his eyes before they shuttered. “Good,” he said, and brought his mouth down on hers.

They peeled her shirt off between kisses, and Maria felt a brief moment of embarrassment when she pulled off her bra. He might be built; she wasn’t. Her body was acceptable, and functional, and she wasn’t going to feel ashamed just because she wasn’t _feminine_ —

His fingers lingered over the scar that ran down her ribs and across to her hip, the touch asking a question which Maria decided to answer. He’d already seen her in a fight, after all.

“A knife in Detroit.”

He stroked his fingertip down the length of the scar, and Maria held her breath at the caress, waiting to see what he’d say. But all he said was, “You lead an interesting life,” before he knelt down and kissed the start of the scar, just over her hip. His hand hovered over the button of her jeans. “May I?”

Maria nodded, mute at the simple courtesy. And felt exquisitely exposed as he tugged down her jeans and her panties, but didn’t let her step out of them; as he stroked his tongue down the curve of her belly and curved his hand over her hip to hold her in place—

She whimpered as his tongue slid into her folds. It had been a long time since a guy had gone down on her, and even then she’d had to ask – and that hadn’t been anywhere near as good as this. A body like a god and a tongue like a…a something with a really good tongue. She arched into his mouth, matching the rhythm of his licks. Her head was spinning and her knees weren’t going to hold her up. She grabbed for something to break her fall—

It took her a moment to realise he’d stopped – frozen in fact. That she had her fingers tangled in his hair, dragging hard at his scalp. She dropped her hands immediately, silently cursing. The best oral sex she’d ever had and she fucks it up. “Sorry.”

“Did I—” He licked his lips. “Did I hurt you?”

She stared, too blurred to quite understand the question. “No. But I grabbed your head—”

“I thought you might want me to stop—” At her noise of protest, he touched a finger to the tip of her clit and almost smiled. “You don’t.Good.” And he replaced his finger with his lips.

Maria grabbed for his head again – but more gently. His hair was silky, soft strands through her fingers as she pressed down against the curve of his skull. Teeth dug into her lip as he stroked her with his tongue, blood tainted her tongue as he scraped her with his teeth, and she groaned as he moulded her with his lips. The pressure built in her, pushing out of her with every breath, pounding through every cell of her body, growing and glowing and spreading through her, until she was saturated with pleasure and gloriously afire.

She was still panting when he rose, his arms coming around her as she swayed. And he coaxed her lower lip out from under her teeth and sucked it gently into his mouth in a kiss that was as intimate as it was sensuous.

When he lifted his mouth from hers, though, he was smiling. “You’re still wearing your shoes.”

“You didn’t exactly give me time to take them off.”

“I may have been a little…over-enthusiastic,” he admitted.

“I wouldn’t say ‘over’.”

He smiled – the self-satisfied smile of every man in the history of everywhere. “You wouldn’t?”

Maria kissed him again, more fiercely. Angled her hip so it pressed against the hardness in his trousers. And smiled when he grabbed her hips and pulled her up against him. But she wasn’t about to let him take control this time – she fully intended to be the one orchestrating things this time around.

He didn’t resist as she pushed him down onto the faded blue and white quilt covering the bed, and pointed at his jeans. “Strip.”

He blinked a little at the tone of authority from her, but unzipped his jeans while Maria slipped off her boots, her socks, and her trousers, before reaching into the bedside drawer for— _Ah, yes_.

“Didn’t you say this was your grandfather’s place?”

Maria arched a brow. “Older men have sex, too. “

He seemed tickled by that thought. And maybe a bit embarrassed. “Yes. Yes, they do.”

“Probably not as frequently, that’s all.”

That made him smile. “Maybe. So, are you going to do the honours, or will I?”

She handed him the condom, and while he was fumbling with the wrapper, straddled his legs and took him in hand. Large, but probably not too big for comfort, and hot and damp to the touch as she stroked her palm down down to cup his balls, then slid her fingers back up the length of him to rub across the tip.

A long breath trembled out of him, and when she looked up, a bright streak of colour rode high on his cheeks. She stroked him again just to feel him writhe – a shift of hips and legs underneath her thighs.

“I think you’d better let me put this on,” he said hoarsely. “Or I’m likely to embarrass myself.”

“Maybe I’d like that.” Maria squeezed him lightly and watched the washboard abs flex. “Okay, covers on, soldier.”

He slid the condom on, easing it over his erection, then drew her in for a lingering kiss. And Maria fitted herself over him, angling carefully before taking him in with one hard shove.

On her hips, his fingers clenched as he sank into her, heat and hardness and intimacy. And he shifted underneath her – in her – settling her on him.

“By the way,” he said as he slid his hands around her waist, “my name is Steve.”

“Maria,” she told him, returning the honesty.

“I’d say it’s nice to meet you,” he twitched, a little thrust of his hips that made her nails dig into his shoulders, “but I think we’re past that.”

Maria pushed back. “Oh, you think?”

“Yeah.” He thrust up again, and they fell into a breathless gallop of hips and hands and lips and tongues.

Somewhere along the way, Maria orgasmed again, with his face in her throat – God, but the man had stamina! And then she could only urge him on, her sensitised flesh unable to take too much more. He came in her with a noise like a sob, and as she rode him through those last, panting moments, she felt a dampness against her collarbone that wasn’t sweat.

Silence fell, pregnant with things Maria didn’t understand and didn’t want to know.

Steve didn’t let her go, though his erection flagged, his arms stayed wrapped around her as they breathed together and listened to the cars rumbling by, shouting voices, someone in the apartment block watching a movie on full stereo.

And Maria let him hold her until the evening light was almost gone. It wasn’t exactly comfortable – she didn’t generally do intimacy, even after sex – but, it seemed, he’d needed this.

“Thank you,” he murmured at last, lifting his head from her collarbone to look up at her, his gaze strong and steady, even in the shadowy twilight.

She tilted her head. “You’re welcome.” She brushed her fingers past his cheek. “You okay?”

He turned his face towards her hand, so his lips touched her fingertips. “I will be.”

She let him use the bathroom to clean up first, flipped through the mail Mrs. Castrisos brought in from the mailbox every day, and wondered if she should invite him to stay for dinner.

But when he stepped into the room, she saw it was unnecessary.

The polite stranger who’d stepped in to help was back; and she felt a mix of relief and regret. There’d be no awkwardness, at least.

“I don’t have any experience in how to say goodbye after...this kind of thing,” he said.

“‘Thank you’ is fine.”

The smile was rueful. “Then, thank you. I...I think I needed...this.”

Maria fought back a shrug. “You’re welcome. And I got something out of it, too.”

Rueful turned warm. “I’m glad I could...help.” And he hesitated, then crossed the room towards her, tilting her face up for a brief kiss.

There was a moment when Maria was tempted to deepen it, to go back for round two, before she pulled away. A brief encounter was one thing, but she had no place in her life for anything more. And she refused to acknowledge the regret in his eyes as she showed him out and he turned on the landing and smiled, briefly, eye to eye.

Then his footsteps clattered down the stairs and out into the street, and Maria closed the door behind him.


End file.
